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HOW NOW BROWN TAO

 

WHAT IS BETTER THAN PROGRESS?

PROGRESS  IS A MEASURE OF PERFECTION, IS IT NOT?

IT IS SAID BY SOME THAT DESIRE IS OKAY BUT THAT DESIRE  FOR PERFECTION MAKES SAUSAGE OF  AN OTHERWISE HEALTHY EGO.

BEEN THERE, HAVE YOU?

CAN WE BE DARING WITHOUT AN EYE FOR PERFECTION?

WHAT HAVE YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO DO?

OR…

HOW HAVE YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO BE?

AWARE?

OR WARY?

SAFE?

NOT SO SAFE?

DESIRE IS OKAY ISN’T IT?

HOW ABOUT WILLINGNESS?

THESE APPEAR TO BE SOME RATHER DARING TRAITS, WOULDN’T YOU SAY?

SAFE?

NOT THERE YET?

WHAT ARE THE TRAITS OF A HEALTHY EGO?

IS IT OKAY TO TRY SOMETHING NEW?

CAN WE, MAY WE, (DO WE DESIRE TO) ACCEPT THE LOVE AND PASS IT ON?

LET’S DO IT.

OKAY?

ACCEPT?

ACCEPT THE LOVE?

ARE YOU SMILING?

AND PASSING IT ON?

 

 

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WATCHING MY CHILDREN

 

WATCHING MY CHILDREN

Watching my children loving their children and their children’s children almost encourages me to stop beating myself for  all my meanness when drinking.

But wait…

Every time there is a video from my son and his grandkids, I recognize his words; he is copying his “Good Old Dad”.

 

THE LIAR’S BECK and CALL

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THE LIAR’S BECK and CALL

Out of the shadows she came
With untamed melodies
Nothing had changed
Except the ferocity
Of the Liar’s
Wrath.
In time
The Light
Shall return
The shadows shall reclaim
What had appeared to be unborn
And much, much more shall be revealed.
(The headstone said “I thought I was cured.”)

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eeBroom

JOHN MET CATHY AND THEN…

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JOHN MET CATHY AND THEN…

He was a quiet one; yes he was; always alert to solutions to the many problems of a given day, an  inventor on the lookout for a better way to get a desired result in less time; here a tweak, there a tweak, everywhere a tweak-tweak…

And then John met Cathy.

To bed and beyond, his moments of studious repose now naught but a memoire, his lab rats mere pets and his need for intellectual stimulation limited to thirty ways to tie a knot in the silk appendage now dangling daily from the collar of his Saville Rowe shirt, John looked around the art gallery  and vowed to change his name, arresting his quest for the old life. He would abandon all and become Rupert the Right.

Goodbye Cathy Dear, here; you may have this as a memoire. Unbuttoning his collar brought a sigh that became a gasp as his lungs inflated with the promise of freedom and new frontiers; “Here is my tie with the Windsor knot; the knot is naught but a naughty memoire. Keep it” he said. “hang it on the bed post” he added.” And Rupert nee John, once left  (now right)  went shopping.

 

IS A SCARF EVER A HAT?

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I was six years old and very inquisitive. So much so that Father often called me Curious Abner.

I asked my father one Saturday during a lunch break at The Broom Family Clothing Store what the difference was between a Hat and a Cap. His reply:

A Hat has a brim and a Cap has a bill.

What about women?

We call them women  (a barely discernible grin.)

No Lovey (Mother and I called Father Lovey); on their heads

Too many categories for women son, everything on a woman’s head is a hat.

That lady over there is trying on a scarf. Is that a hat?

It’s time to get to work Abner.